The Subject of Purity
by MauMeow1
Summary: An owl and a wolf discuss the recent war. Like so many others, they ponder over the subject of Purity and how it could have resulted in so much tragedy. Meanwhile, the lives and traditions of the dire wolves go on as they always have. (Short one-shot examining the irony of the different cultures in the Guardians of Ga'Hoole/Wolves of the Beyond universe)


"Dahlia!" The owl exclaimed.

"Thaddus?!" cried the wolf.

It was a beautiful full moon night in the month of the Long Red Skies, as the wolves called it, and two old friends had just met again.

He was a young barn owl. His warm-colored feathers were much cleaner than those of the colliers that frequented these skies. He was shivering a little in the cold, snowy weather of the beyond, but his beak still showed a big, friendly smile.

She was a tall, nobly built dire wolf. Her coat was black as the night sky they stood under. She knew this land well, and walked the familiar ground with pride. Her green eyes regarded him kindly.

"Oh, Dahlia, it's been so long since I've see you last!" the owl said.

The wolf grinned and replied, "I've missed you, Thad."

"How is your pack? And your clan? Is hunting still good?" The owl swiveled his head to look around. "I always worry for you in this weather."

The wolf raised her head proudly. "We're doing fine. But there have been rumors of another malcadh born in our neighbor pack. Sad news."

"Oh, that's too bad," the owl said.

"Anyway," said the wolf, eager to move on, "What brings you around here again? I haven't seen you in the Beyond since you quit that apprenticeship."

The owl winced. "I...I had to represent my da at a ceremony. His flight squad was holding a remembrance thing, you know, to honor him and some other owls for fighting in the great war. They needed someone to stand in for him and..." He gestured to himself with his wings. "This is the best they could find."

"Your da was in the war?" The wolf said curiously.

"Yeah, I don't really talk about it much," the owl admitted. "He...he died right after I hatched. The Pure Ones got him."

The wolf gasped. "Oh, that's horrible!"

"You know of the Pure Ones, correct?" the owl asked.

The wolf nodded. "Oh, yes! Only a few stories from owls, but, oh my, terrible things...were they really so awful?"

The owl ruffled his feathers and began preening. "I'm afraid so. So many innocent owls like my da are gone now...I can't believe the things they told me of his death." He shuddered. "Thank Glaux they've been destroyed."

The wolf looked at him sympathetically. "I'm sorry. I pray they're all gone now. Horrible creatures."

"Yes," said the owl. "And to think they did it all in the name of 'purity'! Ha!"

"How could they?" the wolf growled. "Killing all those innocents, that's the least pure thing I can think of!"

The owl sighed. "True, true. 'Purity'! I can't believe anyone ever thought it justified all the death."

"Horrible, inexcusable," the wolf declared, shaking her head.

"All those non-tyto owls, killed! Slaughtered like mice! But 'all in the name of purity', I suppose. All in the name of Purity!" The owl spat out the word 'purity' like a foul curse. "It was disgusting."

"Indeed," the wolf said. "Thank Lupus us wolves never fell victim to such an ugly concept!" Then, to make sure she did not offend her friend, she added, "Not that I'm saying all owls did. At least there were enough of you good birds to defeat the bad ones."

"Oh, it's all right," the owl churred, "I will admit that you wolves are much more just and noble than we owls often are. The savagery of the Pure Ones has convinced me of that."

The wolf couldn't help but smile with a hint of smugness. "Perhaps you are all just too smart for your own good."

"Perhaps," the owl mused. "Purity, bah! To hagsmire with it!"

The wolf nodded in agreement. "Purity, bah!" she said wholeheartedly.

They both heard the sound of paws stepping softly on snow. The owl turned his head around to see who it was.

It was just the Obea. Lean, red-furred, and glassy-eyed. In her mouth was an earless pup.

The wolf looked to the owl, and the owl looked back at her.

"Another malcadh," she sniffed disappointedly, "That Obea's been at work a lot this year."

The owl's amber eyes flickered with a hint of pity. "Poor pup. Do you really leave them all to die?"

The wolf frowned. "Yes, we must. I hope this one goes quickly. It's sad, but that's how it must work. It keeps the pack's blood good."

"Oh," the owl said, "I understand. I guess it makes sense, keeping the bloodlines pure."

The two friends quickly continued their conversation, catching up on each other's stories and talking long into the night.

The Obea carried the pup away. Another innocent into death.

All in the name of Purity, I suppose.


End file.
